


Thanksgiving, 2005

by derryderrydown



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derryderrydown/pseuds/derryderrydown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life without the YED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanksgiving, 2005

Dean was twenty-six when Sammy brought Jessica home to meet the family.

He was lounging on the sofa with a beer when Sam ushered her in. The TV was on but he was paying more attention to playing catch with Rufus, because he missed the old mutt when he was at his own place.

"Dean," Sam said, and Dean ignored him. "_Dean,_" Sam repeated.

"You hear something?" Dean asked Rufus, and the spaniel creaked arthritically onto his back, panting with delight as Dean rubbed his belly. "You think some hotshot lawyer has shown up at _our_ Thanksgiving?" Dean ducked just as Sam swatted his head and looked up. "Hey, I was right!"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said, but there was a faint line of pink over the tops of his cheeks. "This is Jess. Jess, this is my big brother. He was dropped on his head a lot as a baby."

"And Sam was put on the rack a lot as a baby." Dean gave her his best smile. "Good to meet you, Jess. You'll have noticed I'm the handsome one."

"He's lying." Dad's voice and Dean looked up to see him lounging in the doorway, wiping oil off his hands. "I'm the handsome one."

Jess smiled, bright and cheerful. "Actually, I'm pretty sure Sam's the handsome one."

"Hey," Dean said. "Sam never mentioned you were _blind_. Where's your seeing eye dog?"

Sam's cheeks were burning. "Shut _up_, you guys."

So Dean took pity on him and turned his attention back to Rufus while Dad greeted Jess and introduced her to Mom and then let Sam take her upstairs. "What do you think?" Dean asked Rufus, who whined and wagged his tail. "Think she's good enough for our Sammy?" Rufus' tail thumped the carpet. "You're right. She's far too good."

"She is," Sam said and dropped onto the sofa. He held his hand out to Rufus, who sniffed it and then sagged down to lie on Dean's feet. "But that doesn't mean you get to try to steal her."

"I'd _never_," Dean said, voice filled with offence.

"Marianne Kernold? Nadine Forster? Sarah Andrich?"

"That was in high school," Dean said. "Well, you were in high school. It doesn't count."

"Seriously, Dean. Jess is different." Sam sounded solemn and Dean glanced over at him, eyebrow quirked.

"How different?"

Sam chewed his lip for a moment and ruffled Rufus' ears. "I've asked her to marry me."

Dean's other eyebrow went up. "That _is_ different. What did she say?"

Sam studied his hands and a grin slowly spread across his face. "She said yes."

"Well." Dean punched Sam's arm. "Good for you, little bro. What do Mom and Dad think?"

"I haven't said anything to them yet. I want to give them a chance to get to know her first. I'm pretty sure Mom'll love her but Dad..." He shrugged again. "I never know what Dad's going to think."

"He'll like her," Dean said definitely. "I mean, as long as she isn't some kind of evil shrew hag who's just after you for your non-existent money."

"That's the thing," Sam said seriously. "I've told her Dad's a multi-millionaire who just lives like this because he finds it comfortable. I think she might be disappointed when she learns the truth."

Dean nodded. "Hmm. In that case, you need to get the ring on her finger as soon as possible. I'll drive you to Vegas."

"Good plan," Sam said, then his grin took over his face and suddenly the pair of them were wrestling on the floor while Rufus barked excitedly.

* * *

"Sam says you're a firefighter?" Jess said to Dean while they washed dishes.

Dean nodded. "Chicks dig the uniform."

"Definitely," Jess said. "I made Sam dress up as a firefighter while we had sex once."

Dean choked. When he recovered enough to look at her, Jess was beaming. "I think I like you," Dean said. "But that doesn't mean you get to tell me about my baby brother's sex life."

"Are you sure? Because he-"

Dean clapped his hands over his ears, ignoring the soap suds. He could still hear Jess' laughter.

* * *

That evening, they sat round and watched television, despite Mom's attempts to get them to play Trivial Pursuit instead.

Dad was in his chair, head on one side as he snored gently, and Mom was curled on the side of the sofa nearest him. Jess was next to her, mirroring her position and leaning against Sam. And Dean had somehow wound up on the floor with Rufus' head in his lap.

Dean leaned forward and lifted up Rufus' ear to whisper in it, "You and me are the only bachelors, boy. We got to be a team of two."

Sam prodded him with his foot. "Well, considering Rufus has had his balls lopped off, you're a team of one."

Dean covered Rufus' ears. "Don't say things like that in front of him. He's still a tough, macho boy, aren't you?"

Rufus' tail lolloped against the floor in response.

* * *

The next morning, Dean ran Dad and Rufus down to the garage, in accordance with the family tradition of getting the hell out of the way when Mom had a Thanksgiving dinner to cook.

"Want to take a look at that Chrysler?" Dad said. "Engine keeps dying after a half-hour or so."

Dean had been halfway planning on using the garage's facilities to give his own car a full service but Dad was short-handed and the work kept piling up. Besides, Dad always hoped Dean would suddenly see the light and decide to pack in the firefighting to run the garage.

So he just said, "Sure," and helped himself to the overalls in his size that were always hanging on the back of the office door.

He had his head buried in the Chrysler's engine when Dad said, "You reckon Sammy's serious about this Jessica girl?"

"How many girls has he ever brought home, Dad? Let alone for Thanksgiving."

Dad's snort of laughter was familiar. "Your Mom likes her."

Dean shrugged. "I think Mom would like anybody Sammy liked." He paused while he detached the fuel line. "What do you think of her?"

There was a long silence. "Well, she's a looker."

"Don't let Mom hear you say that. Or Sammy."

"She seems a nice girl," Dad finally said, which Dean mentally translated as a ringing endorsement.

"Yeah," he said. "She does. Dirty fuel line. Want me to clean it or replace it?"

"Modern piece of crap," Dad said. "Better off just replacing it."

"Will do."

* * *

Dean spent most of the first half of Thanksgiving dinner sneaking turkey to Rufus under the table.

"That dog's going to get obese," Mom said sternly and Dean did his best to look innocent. It never did fool Mom but she just shook her head. "Oh, well. If we're all gorging ourselves, guess he's allowed to."

Mom was just putting dessert down on the table when Dean noticed Sammy and Jess glancing significantly at each other. "Go on," Jess whispered and Sam cleared his throat.

"Mom? Dad? I've got something to tell you."

Dad looked at Dean and raised an eyebrow. Dean looked at the ceiling.

"Jess and I." Sammy looked at Jess and suddenly he was grinning. "We're getting married." In among Mom's flurry of congratulations, Dean could hear Sammy saying, "We're not in a rush, it won't be till after I've finished law school," and, "I only asked her on Wednesday! It's not like I've been keeping quiet for months," and, "Well, yeah, I knew for months that I _wanted_ to ask her."

"You knew," Dad quietly accused Dean and Dean laughed.

"Like I was gonna steal Sammy's thunder on this one."

* * *

That evening, Mom got her way and they played Trivial Pursuit. As always, Mom got all her pieces of pie before anyone else had got halfway.

"This is why we refuse to play with you," Dad said as Jess handed Mom the final piece of pie. She wore a sapphire ring on her left hand now, Dean noticed.

Mom beamed. "You just can't cope with losing anything, can you?"

Dad smiled and settled back in his chair. "Good thing I've never lost anything important, then."

 

**Thanksgiving, 2005**

"Why's everywhere serving turkey?" Dean asked, poking at his sandwich.

Sam looked around the diner and shrugged. "I think it's Thanksgiving."

"Huh." Dean thought about it. "Well, I give thanks for my car and my guns." He lifted his paper cup and pretended to clink it against Sam's. "Happy Thanksgiving."

Sam didn't respond, just concentrated on his dinner.


End file.
